


exustio

by awkwardeye



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cousin Incest, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frottage, Loss of Virginity, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardeye/pseuds/awkwardeye
Summary: With Ben’s passage into manhood arrives his cousin and the flaming path of a first love poorly invested in the wrong person.[Re-uploaded]





	1. arrival

Leia paced the length of the porch, muttering under her breath about everything about the evening that bothered her. From the unbearable heat to her disdain for the arrival of Han’s relatives whom he’d insisted on inviting to celebrate what he called Ben’s passage into manhood. She sighed heavily, thoughts of her gangly, awkward son being defined as a man pressing irritatingly against her mind. The same boy hiding from the arrival of the company being referred to as a man seemed wrong to the point of frustrating her until she retreated to the kitchen for a glass of wine to numb herself and thin her thoughts.

Ben watched the craft more suitable for light travel settle into the dirt from his place among the flora. A great heap of dirt jumped into the air in a brown cloud around the vehicle as it clanked into place, groaning like an elderly man stretching his creaking old limbs. With a low whine and shrill grating, the craft opened, its entrance hidden from his sight. Through the slits between each step, he made out the sight of ankles and pristine shoes that contrasted interestingly with the sleek, black vehicle covered in a thick layer of grime. The sound of an argument reached his ears in a blur of words that he strained to make out without employing his talent. Ben fell back into the dirt, laying flat on the cool floor beneath the web of interlacing green strips of stems attached to budding roses.

A bead of sweat rolled across his forehead and dripped into the damp sea of his inky hair. Through the dark curtain of his eyelashes, he gazed at the distorted view of petals and thorns. Insects crawled over and around his fingers, sinking into the ground. Dirt rested beneath his fingertips and formed a thin, extra layer of skin. His flushed cheeks were damp, cooling in the light breeze that slipped between the leaves of his cramped place of resting. His chest rose and fell slowly, rhythmic and calm. He felt at ease hidden from the harsh rays of the sun and nearly able to hear the spat die down.

A girl with thick dark hair stood a distance from the vehicle, flanked by two children with their hair cut short. Their tan and round cheeks were flushed from the heat and dotted with freckles. Her cheeks, less round, were nearly free of freckles upon the first inspection. But his eyes soon fell upon the beauty marks, not unlike his own that dotted her skin, drawn in as eyes are to hidden curiosities. With ears red as the petals of roses, she stood stiff, a doll on strings whose master had gone a while, forgetting her yearning to move. Narrow, eyes reminiscent of his own flitted between her parents as their quarrel died down to a hum of disapproval.  Her fingers wrapped loosely around those of two smaller ones that twitched and danced with anticipation, though they’d no reason to be so excited by the sight of endless terrain and the promise of more old people no doubt waiting to pull and pluck them into remarkable young children. Down the winding path she stared, feet boiling atop the burning ground and head pounding.

Ben suppressed a chuckle, mind straying to his mother who he knew was no doubt worrying her head off in anticipation of their arrival. Like any other human, the arrival of an irritatingly loud and dysfunctional couple and their snot-nosed brats and priss (or, at least, Ben thought her to be a priss because only a priss could look and hold herself like her) of a daughter left his mother a mess. The again, he thought, her worries might be attributed to a matter closer to home. Her child growing into a man, her overwhelming denial slowly losing hold whenever she met his eyes… He’d rather not dwell. Allowing a content sigh to slip over his lips, his eyes fluttered shut and the heat settled softly around him, lulling him into unconsciousness plagued by his worst fears, the monsters of his subconscious and the truth he could only avoid in consciousness.

Meanwhile, Leia stood on the porch, straight as an arrow and ready to greet her relatives as she greeted any matter of business. She smiled pleasantly when Han’s relatives entered her line of vision. The husband and wife led the party, well dressed, but reeking of irritation. The youngest children (whom Leia didn’t know any better than a speck of dirt beneath her foot) followed, having wrestled their hands free of their elder sister somewhere around where the road bent suddenly at the edge of the wood. Bringing up the rear, Acacia, the eldest child. A pretty thing whose young eyes fogged over with a film of aged wisdom, preoccupied with one thing or another and looking as if she both expected and embraced the possibility of catastrophe with an unbreakable calamity. Still, her eyes twinkled with endless wonder and excitement toward something Leia couldn’t name or place.

Rose greeted Leia, voice barely more than a whisper. A thin, wisp of a woman, she seemed almost too fragile, like she was nearly to her point of breaking yet clinging to the whole with only a strand of thread. Blowing in the wind, a weed, she gestured toward her husband, Aedus, and then to her children with shaking hands eager to finish a task. Pausing suddenly, she appeared to remember something that had slipped her mind and she smiled, sheepish and tired. Waving her thin fingers, she murmured, “And these are Carmine and Carmina, our garden and song.” She patted one of the children’s shoulders and nodded to herself, coming to a consensus within herself. “I’m awfully tired, Leia, would you mind…?”

Leia’s eyes widened a fraction before she nodded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.  She stepped aside to allow the family to enter the house in the same order they arrived. Acacia hung back, hesitant to follow the rest of her family. Leia took in the sight of the girl, clean and dressed in light fabrics, comfortable beneath the blazing sun, and wondered what ran through her mind. “Lovely weather to laze around in, isn’t it,” Leia sighed, nostalgia dripping from her tongue. Leia could never bring herself to enjoy _-tolerate-_ it when Han’s family (what remained of it that he knew of) appeared on her doorstep with their gloomy air and dysfunctional way of interacting. Though she’d had time to prepare herself for them, she could do nothing to ward off her bitter mood with the sun burning the back of her neck and Han did all he could to remain out of her reach. Left to plan out the entire day, her irritation melted away with Acacia standing on the porch, caught in her own thoughts and oblivious to the older woman’s, a vision of the innocence and freedom of youth, and the sight of the sun setting in a wondrous burst of burning hues. Softly, she murmured, “Are you in or out, Acacia? I’m not going to let the bugs in.”

“Out. I want to know where I’ll be staying for the next few days,” Acacia replied. She turned and prepared to descend the steps, stiff and eager to be out of the way. Fatigued by the day’s travel, her movements felt delayed and unbearably slow. She ran her nails across her knuckles and averted her gaze to the vivid green of the sprawling land before her, closed in by large trees reaching into the sky. “Is Ben somewhere in there?” Pulled by the lingering scent of an evening wearing, she turned abruptly without awaiting a response. Her feet slapped the pavement, a scathing cement path. Lost in her own thoughts, a weight felt to lift from her chest with the added distance between herself and her quarreling parents.

 

 

Ben awoke to the sound of a small animal running through the mess beneath the roses. He rolled onto his side and glared at the tiny creature as it nudged his legs before running around in panicked circles as if it was truly trapped. Focusing only on his goal, his breath grew heavy with the effort of remaining focused on the task. He could kill the little thing if he wanted to in his position. What value did it have for the planet to miss should it die? He flexed his fingers and heard the indignant squeals of ignorant desperation pierce the silence. Flex, relax, silence. Deep silence. Not even the insects stirred.

The sun had begun to sink and the sky was pink between the roses and their stems. Another day wasted beneath the rose bushes, another day claimed by sleep. Ben rolled onto his stomach to drag himself from beneath the roses, itching to clean himself. He sighed and stretched his stiff limbs. Scratching the back of his neck, he felt at ease again. Though the day was still humid, the heat weighed less heavily and uncomfortably against him. He wiggled his toes in the dirt before pulling his shirt over his head. Sniffing the garment, he pulled a face and decided he needed a bath more than he’d initially thought.

Ben trudged through the trees, watching the sun sink lower, lower, and occasionally stopping to practice with a random result of nature. He quite enjoyed his walks through the wood. Only in the moments he spent surrounded solely by nature did he feel himself ease into the identity of the child his parents wanted him to be. But he was a man, now, or, at least, _nearly_ a man. Either way, he knew he’d be expected to claim his spot in society soon or, at least, attempt to considering his place in society. Would he follow his grandfather or his mother, father, his mother’s brother?

Darkness fell quickly and Ben knew he was already too late to arrive at dinner on time, so he continued on his way. Trudging between the trees, he could almost see the lake through the gaps between the trunks of trees older than his family. Serenity in its embodiment. Still water gleaming beneath the pale light of the moon, branches casting shadows over the ground with finger-like digits stretching and curling forth into the night air. The scent of wet dirt mixed with the faint aroma of the flowers blooming along the bank. On his tongue, the air lingering before swooping down his throat with icy fingers outstretched to burn his tongue with minty knives. The disembodied chirping and squawking of the area’s fauna split the silence. Just as his mood leveled to something short of calm, it shattered with the sight of her.

The girl from earlier (that he knew to be his cousin only through his father’s description of her) emerged from the silver depths. Water cascaded over her body in racing rivulets. Shivering slightly, she moved too slowly, taking excruciatingly long moments to pull herself up and out of the water to be devoured by virgin eyes. He thought to himself, _A cousin’s a distant relative. Barely even related, honestly_. The memory of his last meeting with her was but a faint slip of blurred images and childish gibberish spoken excitedly, but he clearly remembered that he had regarded her with disdain. He moved forward, keeping himself hidden behind the cover of a tree at the edge of the clearing and counting on the indigo blanket of darkness to cover what the tree couldn’t, to examine her properly as a living female with forbidden territory beckoning.

It was his first time seeing a woman naked in person. The curiosities of her body captivated him in a way he’d never known he could be captivated. He found himself relishing in the sight of the moon’s light bathing her skin in a monochromatic glow as the faint outlines of muscles rippled beneath it when she stretched her arms above her head. Her back curved wondrously, her breasts flattening and exposing themselves fully to the light beneath which they glimmered, slick and rising and falling with her every breath. When she pulled her hair over her shoulder to wring the strands dry, Ben shivered and leaned forward to _really_ see her, his breath caught in his throat. He hoped to burn the image of his cousin into his mind so that, when his eyes closed, she would dance across his eyelids, nude and ethereal. The thought both sickened and pleased him, this taboo idea that tugged at the doors of his sexuality and begged to corrupt his every fantasy.

He ran his fingers along the smooth bark of the tree behind which he sought shelter from her eyes and imagined the bark to be her skin. What might it feel like to touch her? To run his fingers along her thighs or dig them into the fleshy area just below her ribs? To drag his fingers across her hairless sex and have her heat wrap around them like some sort of lewd blanket? What might those deliciously plump lips feel like stretched around his…? The words he’d heard tossed shamelessly among boys in his year ran across his mind, finding a place to be applied as he recounted their escapades and wondered what might come of his own. His thoughts grew hazy and he gulped in air, his eyes focusing again on her form with such intensity she would be frightened if she could see him.

The soft clinking of metal on metal preceded the growl of a zipper yanked down. His trousers fell down his legs with a soft swish of fabric tossed aside, pooled at his ankles. He hesitated with his fingers tracing the waistband of his underwear that felt unbearably restrictive in his state, guilt and misguided wonder freezing his motions. Guilt, at the thought of defiling himself to the image of his cousin who he only remembered he never quite liked. Wonder, as he gazed upon her still form and knew that she would eventually move and possibly ruin his plan. But she didn’t seem about to move anytime soon and he reminded himself, more firmly this time, _A cousin’s a distant relative. Barely even related, honestly._

His hand moved slowly at first, his every breath heavier than the last and tumbling from his dry lips like rocks over the edges of cliffs. Inhaling deeply, the scents of dirt after rain, deep and comforting, and his own sweat, clinging to his skin and mixing with the last remnants of the soap he used to bathe himself. His hair tickled his neck when he hung his head. Gazing at her through the curtain of his eyelashes, his eyes traveled along the curve of her pale shoulders. The movement of his hand slowed and he settled for rubbing himself absently, a sudden yearning to drag out the event tugging at his limbs. But the teasing stimulation only made him more aware of his erection, curling into the cool air.

Acacia froze, weighing her options carefully. Ben had stumbled out from behind his tree, his hand wrapped firmly around his cock (which she hadn’t the chance to be disgusted or pleased to see before he stepped brazenly forward with his hand sliding up and down his length so slowly she wondered if time had slowed in her eyes). His trousers and underwear pooled around his thighs, slipping lower as he moved. Their eyes met for a moment and they shared an empty thought in which they neither praised nor discouraged the other’s action. Her eyes dropped first, to the object of attention caught in his hand. Lips parted with the sight of it, thick and pale, its head pink and wet with a substance she couldn’t name. She licked her lips, her heart beating quickly, and stepped forward hesitantly. When he didn’t protest, she moved forward, approaching him until they stood an arm’s length apart and she could hear every hitch in his breath without any effort. Her head grew heavy with the notion that _she_ had delivered him to such a state.

“I’m sorry,” Ben moaned, his hand gaining speed. He used his other to grip the trunk of a nearby tree, the bark cutting his sweating fingertips. Shaking his head, his mouth hung open and he allowed groan after groan to slip from his throat, these low, guttural growls that pierced the night. Tightening his grip on the tree, he stared into her eyes for a moment before his gaze dipped lower, following the curve of her delicate neck to the dip of her clavicle, further down to the skin between her breasts. Pert nipples called out to him and he longed to lunge forward and run his fingers along their stiff tips, trace the darkened skin around them. His eyes cut back to hers which were harsher now, reprimanding and burning with something he couldn’t name in his frenzy. He gripped his shaft too tightly and winced.

“You’re filthy,” she murmured, coldly. A moan tore from his throat and he shook his head, silently agreeing. He could feel it building with her words nearly driving him over the edge. He willed himself to keep his pace for the sake of enjoying the sensation, watched her eyes travel down once more with a hungry sort of curiosity and disdain. “You want to make love to me, don’t you, you disgusting bastard,” she snapped, far too pleased with the reaction he rewarded her. Ben nodded and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands away from his nose. “Touching yourself to the sight of your own cousin,” she whispered. That was it, the catalyst to pierce the skin of anticipation. Time seemed to stop and he felt both helpless and completely in control. Ben’s eyelids twitched, the dark hues of his eyes disappearing as they rolled back momentarily before he forced himself to look at his cousin for the briefest of moments in which he felt that he stood at the peak of a mountain and leapt forward to drop quickly to his own death, his stomach dropping and a burst of heat searing his skin from the inside out.

Acacia blinked and placed her hands on her hips, shivering slightly when the air blew against her dripping skin. She surveyed the trees, their topmost limbs dipping and curving overhead to block out some of the moon’s light. Closing her eyes, she felt the adrenaline seep from her veins, the thrill dissipating with Ben’s pleasure. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and stared down at her toes on which she could feel the slightest dampness as a milky substance ran over them. Her eyes flitted back to her cousin, reduced to an unappealing and pathetically lustful teenager with a desire for his own bloodline. Gangly and uncomfortable, she didn’t have to see his face to know that his mood had shifted as quickly as her own. But as they stood in the darkness, completely vulnerable to each other, for the first time they felt at ease with each other. Kylo with his shame dripping down his fingers and Acacia fueled by a desire to begin a new, truly forbidden endeavor stared at each other and knew with great conviction that there was absolutely no turning back from this point onward. Thus, the downward descent began.

 


	2. breakfast and sand

Sticky fingers tangled themselves in dark, curling hair and smeared marmalade across rosy cheeks. Laughter rang through the hallways, joyous shrieks of childish delights. A conversation dipped and rose around the laughter, growing more strained with each pause. An air of impatience began to settle down, a heavy fog. The family found themselves sat around the table in the dining room, tired though noon beckoned. The children were rowdy, the adults irritated, and the lone teen silent, watching with an unbearable knowledge on her tongue.

Acacia stared at her parents, sitting with the table between them. Carmine beside the mother and Carmina beside Acacia, rosy around the cheeks and not bothering to quiet their laughter. They didn’t have to speak to amuse each other, instead, all humor resided somewhere in the twitch of a nose, the dropping of a fork with an unceremonious clatter. Aedus sat on the other side of Acacia, digging his fork into his breakfast and muttering beneath his breath whenever his wife tried and failed to quiet the children he could never tell apart. He glanced at Acacia and rolled his eyes, seeing the girl more focused on the window than her food. He pinched the skin just above her elbow and glared pointedly at her untouched plate.

“Where’s Ben?” Rose asked, in that lilting way of hers, as if the thought had suddenly crossed her mind.

“I haven’t seen him since yesterday,” Leia replied, dropping her utensils down onto her plate where they clattered noisily. She’d delayed breakfast solely for the purpose of holding introductions over the meal, going so far as to leave a note on his empty bed the night before and remind him when she passed his room that morning that he must show his face. She folded her hands on the table, her eyes falling across the faces around her in a scrutinizing manner. “Han,” she murmured, her gaze lingering on Acacia for a moment too long as if she knew of the previous night’s shameful encounter. Her eyes followed her speech and fell upon her husband’s exasperated visage. Flexing her jaw, she waited for him to take the lead.

“I dropped in on him this morning and he said he had a headache, wanted to sleep it off before he went to see his uncle,” Han said, sighing heavily. Turning to Acacia, he drooped beneath the heat and his wife’s foul mood. Must Leia always be so unbearable when his family dropped in for a visit? He remembered how she paraded Ben the last time, justifying her show by saying it was a matter of pride “His room is upstairs, the last door on the left. Since she insists, tell him to come down before dinner,” he said, his eyelids falling as he slumped in his chair. “The weather’s unbearable here,” he moaned.

Acacia stood promptly with a curt nod and turned on her heels so quickly it was a wonder she didn’t slip and fall. The entrance of Ben cut her exit short, but she remained standing, frozen in her spot. Her blood ran cold when his eyes widened. In broad daylight, his features less distorted by shadows and twisted by his own will were admittedly handsome and inviting, she found. The longer she stood and simply stared, the more his gaze drew her in, those dark eyes always shining with something nearly dangerous, ominous on an otherwise gentle face. What felt like hours of simply standing and staring was really only a matter of seconds and, before suspicion could arise, Acacia twisted around and seated herself. Holding her breath, she counted his heavy footsteps and hoped he wouldn’t mention what he’d seen.

“Morning,” Ben mumbled, slumping into the seat beside Acacia when Carmina scrambled from her seat in the moment of surprise. Their chairs were unnecessarily close by her design, an excuse to be a distance from her uncomfortable father. Ben folded his arms over his chest and focussed on his mother, almost challenging her with his glare. “I don’t want to celebrate my birthday. It’s just another year gone by.”  He resisted a smirk as his parents both fought to control themselves in the uncomfortable presence of extended family better called foreigners. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of Acacia continuing on with her breakfast with an unnatural calmness.

“Birthdays are wonderful, Ben,” Acacia whispered. She was usually bolder with her words, but she was still slightly groggy and subdued by the threat of being told on by the too long teen who had witnessed her in all of her glory. Then again, she could easily use what he’d done against him. How he would squirm when she told the sensible adults about how he touched himself as she watched. She leaned naturally toward him as she spoke. “I think birthdays are the best days of the year. Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate the anniversary of your birth, cousin?” _Cousin_. What a taunting word on her mouth.

Ben’s eyes wandered from her face to where her blouse fell forward with gravity to reveal her skin. He noticed with a start that she’d decided not to wear a bra and ran his tongue over his lips which tasted faintly of mint toothpaste. Cutting his eyes to hers, he blinked stupidly before pulling himself out of his own daze. Sneering, he gestured around the table and hissed, “It’s _my_ birthday, not everyone else’s and I’ll spend it as I please.” His words fell short of the intended effect and within moments the table was again alive with muttering and laughter. Fury engulfed him in a flame that threatened to scald his insides as it licked a path through his chest. Why in the world had his father’s wretched family arrived so early when his birthday wasn’t for another few days? Shaking up his world before he’d thought they would angered him to the point of silence. Then there was the matter of Acacia and whether or not she was to be trusted.

Aedus shifted in his seat and his elbow jutted out, threatening to knock against Acacia. She leaned away from the threat of being jabbed by an elbow and into the uncomfortable territory of the silently fuming Ben who had not yet gathered himself a plate. As she opened her mouth to comment on that, her eyes met his and she found the words snatched from her mouth by the utterly bizarre expression he wore.

Ben’s eyelids drooped a bit, his eyes glazing over from the shock of euphoria. With her so close, he smelled the mixture of sweat, soap, and perfume on her skin. An inebriating and mature scent for a girl younger than himself assaulted his senses and, involuntarily, his spine curved and he found his face hovering closer to hers than he intended when she turned to scold him. He exhaled loudly and stood too quickly, sending his hair flying back with a loud crash. With all eyes trained on him, he stomped from the room with his head down and his hair tumbling around his face to hide his blush. He heard her footsteps, light and measured, but didn’t turn to acknowledge her.

Acacia didn’t stop when they reached the front door, but continued on without sparing him so much as a glance. Stunned, he hesitated a moment on the threshold, his mother’s voice ringing in his ears along with the sound of chairs scraping against the floor as they were pushed back. He considered waiting and apologizing for leaving suddenly, but, when he caught his mother’s eyes as she rounded the corridor and stormed toward him, he thought _to hell with it all_ and follows Acacia. She disappeared behind the house. Sure of herself, she knew the terrain already, knew where the adults were least likely to follow once they grew tired of chasing their cases. Not that she was the case at hand. Aunt Leia was focused solely on Ben and, since he was following her, Acacia was all the more willing to risk being caught by him, maybe even his mother, too.

Blades of grass turned to grains of sand beneath his feet, hot against his sensitive skin. The sun licked flaming paths along his forearms and the back of his neck. Soon sweat began to drip down his face and he considered employing the force to halt his cousin’s swift movements. He knew his mother wouldn’t chase him mainly because of the weather and partially due to company. Under different circumstances, a kinder climate, she’d be hot on his heels. His lips stuck together when he ran his tongue along them, though he was far from parched. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he clenched his jaw and wished to lay his tongue on her instead.

She stopped when the water came to her ankles, her eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed against the blinding pale light of the sun reflected on the faintly rippling stretch of green tinted water. The sand beneath her feet was hot, scalding, the water lukewarm on the tops of her feet. It left wet kisses on her skin, waves pushing around her ankles. Her chest rose and fell slowly. She waited. It was only a matter of time, she thought, before he mentioned their last meeting. Still, she enjoyed the too slow pace he adopts when he walks forward, each step an eternity. A lone breeze tickled her skin and lifted a few strands of hair. A frown etched itself into her features.

And then he did something she hadn’t counted on or even considered. Ben began to walk away from her, retreating to the edge of the beach where the sand mixed with grass and the leaves of bowed trees left a gray shadow on the sand. Satisfied when she stiffened, he decided to speak, loudly and without a care for outside ears. “What we did last night… I don’t think we’ll be able to forget about it and I don’t think either of us _want_ to.”

“You sound desperate,” Acacia mused, finally turning to him.

“S-shut up!” Ben yelled, embarrassed by her nonchalance. It was a risk, even bring it up and he would not be made a fool by his cousin.

“What do I get out of this? You touch yourself like a creep in front of me and think I’m going to run into your arms?” Acacia snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re a lame prince, cousin. What you did last night was disgusting.”

“Yeah, and you liked it,” Ben spat, sneer turning into a smirk. “Otherwise you would’ve told and we wouldn’t be together like this.” He liked how she bit her lip at his words, shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I thought of you this morning,” he murmured. By this point, he knew that he was already in too deep either way she decided to take things. If she told, it wouldn’t matter if he masturbated twice or once because it was the act that would incriminate him. If she agreed, it would only fuel her. “Considered sneaking into your room and touching you, too.”

“That’s vulgar.”

“And what you said last night wasn’t?” Ben scoffed and lowered himself to the ground. Peering up at Acacia, finally upon him and covered by the shade offered by the trees, he smirked and gestured toward his lap. “It’s a comfortable seat if you’re over yourself.” It was always such a peculiar feeling, being unbearably aware of that one part of him that ached against the fabric of his clothing. Swiftly, he adjusted himself into a slightly less uncomfortable position. His heart beat quickly in his chest and he swallowed, nervous when Acacia straddled his thighs and lifted her skirt a bit so that it settled over his crotch.

“You’re a virgin,” she whispered.

Perhaps his pride would be less bruised if she hadn’t laughed afterward, like his status was the most amusing subject she could ever discuss. He wanted to toss her from his lap, push her skirt aside, and show her. Show her what? He hesitated. Ben honestly didn’t know how to proceed after he rid her of her clothes if he could achieve so much. After all, he was only an ignorant virgin while she seemed to know so much more about sex. It was evident in the way she gazed at him, with eyes that undressed him, in the way she spoke, even in the way she moved. He’d have to let her guide him through the act.

Acacia’s laughter died and she folded her hands in her lap. “Let’s play a game, Ben.” She felt unbelievably lucky to be able to corrupt him first. It would be her to wash the purity from his skin and she’d enjoy every moment of it. He stiffened beneath the weight of her fingers, tracing his outline through his pants. “I’ll make you feel good,” she said. Acacia shifted forward, pressing her crotch against his and jolting her hips suddenly to see his reaction. “The rules are simple.”

Ben’s eyes widened and his eyes fell to his lap where her weight felt so conflictingly painful and pleasureful. His hands rested uselessly on her thighs, fingers sliding against the lacy fabric of her skirt. His hips swung upward, off the ground, and he heard her gasp before her hands came down to his waist and pushed him back down. His lips brushed against her clavicle when she leaned forward, the movement of her hips never slowing. He’d only ever heard of girls doing such a thing from the mouths of popular boys who had multiple pretty girls to play with whenever they pleased. He’d thought it foolish and a waste to spend time playing through layers of clothing instead of diving straight into the meal, but he now understood the appeal as the girl before him rocked her hips back and forth, round and round.

“I’ll ask you a question and if I like your answer, I’ll take off something I’m wearing. If I don’t, I’ll put on my clothing. If you don’t… do _it_ by the time I’m naked, I’ll let you put it in me,” she said, her words slow as they tumbled from her lips. It was sick, doing something like this with her own cousin, but he had the same parts as the other boys she’d done similar things with, so she couldn’t be bothered to stop when she was already enjoying herself. A familiar warmth began to pool between her legs. “Am I beautiful?” she hummed.

“You already know that you are,” Ben murmured. He attempted to focus in the haze of arousal and began to file through her thoughts for the answer she wanted from him.

“No,” Acacia snapped, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth at the sensation of her cousin prying open her mind. “No cheating. It doesn’t count if you cheat and I’ll stop if you do it again,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even and calm. “I heard rumors about a boy who likes to read minds, but I never thought it was true,” she muttered, more to herself than him. Feeling him leave her head, she opened her eyes and stared down at him. “Promise me that you’ll never do that to me again,” she whispered.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Ben snapped.

“Keep this one.”

“Fine. I promise,” he groaned, grabbing her hips and guiding them along his length. “I’ll promise you the world if you don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” he moaned.

Acacia raised her fingers to the shining black buttons on her blouse and nodded. His eyes didn’t immediately fall on her breasts, but followed the movement of the soft fabric as it slid down her arms to rest momentarily at her elbows until she shrugged her shoulders and it fell with a soft swish to the sand. She watched his eyes drink in the sight of her, unable to fight the smile that came to her lips with his words. He wasn’t much different from any other boy, but he was already so wrapped up in her and they hadn’t even known each other yet. “What’ll you do if someone sees us?” she asked.

“I won’t stop. Let them watch,” Ben sighed. Raising a hand to her breast, he ran his thumb across her nipple before pinching it lightly. When she made no move to stop him, he pressed his lips to her neck. It was something he’d done once with a girl he hardly knew or liked in his dorm while away at the academy. Nothing came of it and she’d seemed more bothered than pleased. Impatient, he tugged at Acacia’s skirt.

“Take your clothes off,” she sighed, fumbling with Ben’s belt.

“Are you gonna let me make love to you?” Ben asked, hopeful. His eyes flew open and he watched Acacia pull down her skirt and underwear in one movement. Pulling himself free of his trousers, he leaned forward. He caught her scent in the air and licked his lips, hands reaching for her thighs to nudge them further apart until he could see the glistening lips of her sex part. In the brief moment before she came back down to straddle him, he raised a hand to slip a finger between her slick folds, but his hand fell short when she moved and he settled for holding her thighs again. Her skin was warm beneath his fingers.

“No.” Dragging a finger along his shaft, she smiled coyly as he tilted his head back, leaving his smooth, pale neck unguarded. She watched him lick his lips, his hips lurching upward in their search for more direct contact. “You don’t even know how to make love, Ben. You don’t want to embarrass yourself so quickly,” she purred, grasping his hands and guiding them to her chest. Shuddering slightly when his calloused palms  brushed the sensitive nubs, she asked, “Aren’t you ashamed, doing something like this with your own cousin?”

“I could say the same to you,” Ben replied. Dipping his hand between her legs, he added, “And you’re just as excited as me.”

Acacia swatted his hand away and shifted in his lap until she felt him pressed flush against her. Unprepared for his reaction, she inhaled sharply when his arms circled around her and he pulled her into a tight embrace. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, tongue running along the juncture as her hips jerked forward and then back and she heard him gasp. It was this delicious, boyish noise that caressed her ears. His breath hit her skin, hotter than the sun had been. “Does it feel good for you, Ben?” she asked, throwing an arm lazily around his broad shoulders.

Ben’s mouth hung open and he nodded wordlessly, hugging her tighter. “Feels good. Really good,” he mumbled. Her teeth sank into his neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to make him flinch involuntarily. A shaky breath escaped him and he bit his lip to quiet the groans that threatened to fall. He felt every detail of her pressed against him. Her sensitive clit against his shaft, the warm wetness of her pressing down against him and making him pulse against her. And then she was breathing heavily, her pace quickening and then halting altogether save for the jerky movements of her hips as a ragged moan tore from her lips. He palmed her breasts when her back arched, her toes curling and a stream of murmured gibberish accompanied her high.

Acacia closed her eyes when her back made contact with the sand, vaguely irritated by the promise of sand in her hair. And then his lips were on hers briefly, a shock of excitement flooding her senses. He held himself up with one hand, the other moving down to adjust her legs, spreading them apart. “You can’t put it in,” she mumbled, feeling the weight of his head at her entrance. She felt him sliding himself between her folds, his length twitching tantalizingly, and, when she looked down, she saw his length was slick from her and her cheeks flooded with heat. Throwing an arm across her face, she rested her free palm on his chest, feeling the dip of his clavicle beneath her fingers and the curve of his pectorals.

Ben couldn’t help himself when he leaned down to kiss her again. She looked so beautiful with her eyes rolling back and her mouth opened, lips forming a wonderful circle, as she moaned _his_  name Her hair splayed out around her flushed face, an obsidian curtain. The veins of her neck bulged and she stiffened beneath him, clawing at his chest as her own rose and fell at increasingly uneven intervals. She was so beautiful and entirely at his mercy. Was this love he felt stir in his chest? He pressed his lips to her and she hungrily accepted his kiss. There was a faint tingling and burn and he felt his stomach drop in the most pleasing way as she writhed and he mimicked her movements, thrusting weakly against her and speaking his thoughts freely. In a matter of seconds, it was all over and he collapsed on top of her. For a moment, he wished foolishly to hold onto her for an eternity, to stay like this until he rotted and his heart beat painfully against his ribs. Before the bitter taste of guilt could settle on his tongue her voice invaded his thoughts and he turned his head to regard her as she spoke.

“Was it good, Ben?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I love you, Acacia.”

“No, you don’t.” She’d only heard the words a handful of time and it was the first time she’d heard them and been caught so off her guard that she didn’t have the time to set up her walls to deflect them. When they sank in, there was a fluttering in her heart and stomach. A bit of warmth and a bit of guilt. The moment felt tainted by his words, made her rethink her actions and questions the motives she’d been so sure in only minutes ago. With just three words, she became painfully aware of the fact that Ben was related to her by blood and that their current situation was beyond immoral. Besides, he’d only truly known her for a day so he couldn’t mean what he said. Yet, she melted with his words.

“Do you love me, Acacia?” Ben lifted himself off of his cousin’s chest and stared down at her. Though he knew he couldn’t allow himself to hope that she might want to be with him or do more with him than touch him for a number of reasons. Firstly, he’d seen briefly in her mind that she wasn’t one to fall in love so quickly. Most importantly, though, he knew that their parents would never have it, their related children engaging each other. But, looking down at her, vulnerable with her body calling for him, he couldn’t deny the turning of his stomach with the flutter of excitement that came with the sight of her. He hadn’t seen her eyes so clearly before, but now that he gazed into them, they lit him aflame without any warning and he wanted to burn. And burn he would if he continued to play her game. When Acacia did not reply save for the wordless movement of her mouth before she closed her eyes and ignored him, he rolled himself over and laid beside her, his fingers lingering on her skin. He stared at her profile, at the sweat that made some of her hair stick to her neck, and breathed her in like she was the freshest air he’d ever had. Like a broken record, he said, “I love you, Acacia.”


	3. feel

Ben woke with a stained sheet wrapped around his legs and the faint taste of blood in his mouth. He turned his head to the side, eyes shifting to the place where he’d last seen her. The rug, devoid of Acacia’s form, suddenly seemed a drab decorative piece and he could not decide whether he wanted to burn it or curl up on it. He gripped the sheet beneath him and clenched his jaw, his throat tightening uncomfortably. Fighting to keep his expression from wavering, his facade fell when he replayed the previous night’s events in his head, his personal form of torture.

Acacia came in late, rousing Ben from his sleep with a playful smile and roaming fingers. In the darkness, her eyes glowed with the promise of mischief. The only light spilled in through a crack in the curtains whenever a breeze blew them apart. She spoke softly, but without any anxiety of being caught. Smiling as if she knew all the things that he did not. Before they could touch, when the moment still remained pure and entirely light, they both felt like children nearly ready to touch their mother’s favorite ring. She hadn’t reached his bed before she spoke, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet. “Your mother was looking for you all day again, Ben.” It was evasive and light, but she knew she couldn’t avoid what she came for.

“You should have told me earlier,” Ben mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“As if you didn’t know,” Acacia said, laughing.

“She only ever looks for me to show me off, you know. Mostly she just argues with my father and they don’t think of me save to send me to train with Uncle Luke,” Ben said. He shifted his back to his cousin and stared absently at the wall, unashamed of his truth. “They’re like your parents only they don’t keep having kids to save their marriage. At least, that’s how Mother put it.” Hearing her sharp inhale, he glanced over at Acacia who had begun to play with a loose thread on his comforter, kicked to the bottom of the bed.

“Shut up,” she muttered, her delivery weak and laced with boredom. She’d heard so many things about her parents and seen everything else; she didn’t care about them anymore. And who would care if they were constantly bombarded with a barrage of untruths with carefully woven truths hidden within them? She knew the truth to a desirable extent and preferred not to consider anything any further than necessary, her parents being a prime example and Ben another. As much as she enjoyed her meetings with him, she didn’t have an urge to dig for anything more than he wanted to offer which already bordered on too much. “I don’t want to talk about our parents.”

Neither did he. In fact, talking about their parents only forced the guilt that had been simmering in his stomach up toward his throat where it felt like bile. Through the thin fabric of her nightgown, he could just barely make out the beauty marks that spotted the smooth skin of her back. In his mind, the image of her replayed and he remembered with startling clarity every mark that he’d discovered in their previous encounters. He felt her fingers on the waistband of his shorts, tracing his hip bones before slipping back down and around. There it was again, the uncomfortable awareness. At that exact moment, he realized that he could be with her without engaging her in anything slightly sexual. He could speak to her or simply sit beside her and hold her hand in his. He wanted to kiss her, soft and sweet and without any expectation of something more. But his body was accustomed to her. “Do you remember what we were like as kids?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, you didn’t like me,” Acacia replied. She prepared to pull his underwear down.

“That’s because my father liked you more than me. All the adults did because you were a girl and pretty and easier to stomach,” Ben continued.

“I didn’t come here to  _ talk _ …” She couldn’t mask her amusement. “But you can do that.”

Ben prepared to respond, but was cut short by the sudden swift movement in which she yanked his underwear down to his knees and grasped his shaft. “Don’t you ever just want to talk to me?” he asked. Gritting his teeth to keep from moaning out loud, he allowed himself a moment to become accustomed to the burning wetness that enveloped him in a burst of pleasure and sent his thoughts straight toward his own climax. His eyes snapped wide and he glared down at his cousin with her mouth wrapped around him and her eyes trained on his. Heat rose to his cheeks, sheer embarrassment making him avert his gaze. “I… uh, l-like doing this!” he moaned, hips jerking forward when her mouth slid down his length, her tongue pressing against his burning skin.

“Most boys do,” Acacia hummed, pulling off of him with a wet noise that made her cousin shudder. Grinning, she squeezed his thighs before nudging them apart for her to lay comfortably between them. Propping herself up on her elbows, she traced circles around his tip with her nail. “To your other question, I don’t ever want to just talk to you. I want to play with you until I have to go home again, Ben.”  And why should she? He was her cousin at the end of the day and nothing could come of their relationship, nothing good at least. She didn’t allow herself to consider returning his feelings for more than a moment at a time. As quickly as the thought assaulted her, she swiped it away with reality which was very simple. Ben quite liked her and she liked to be liked by him, but couldn’t say with absolute certainty that she liked him for more than pleasure. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smirked down at his erection. “You don’t seem to mind it either,” Acacia said, taking him fully in her hand and beginning to pump his length.

“I don’t mind, but I-” he swallowed his words with a low groan when she squeezed his length suddenly. Glaring down at her, he wondered why he was cursed to want someone like her. His own cousin who only wanted to touch him like he was some doll to be played with only when bored. A twinge of pain in his chest made him avert his gaze to the door. He quickly shoved his yearning for her to the back of his mind, ashamed of his weakness. “Will you miss me, Acacia?” he asked. Ben winced when she tugged sharply at his dark pubic hair and frowned up at him before taking him suddenly back into her mouth with a soft growl.

He tasted faintly of sweat and soap on her tongue, heavy in her mouth. Acacia grinned around Ben’s shaft when her nose bumped against his pelvis. Her breath escaped her nostril in warm bursts of air and every inhale brought back the smell of him which she neither liked nor disliked. Whenever he attempted to speak, she picked up the pace or dug her nails into his thighs until he couldn’t help but moan or swallow his words. It became clear to her, though, that Ben wasn’t easily dissuaded when he tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her away from his twitching erection, a stern expression on his face.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.

“Fuck’s sake, Ben! I’m trying to suck you off and all you want to do is talk!” Acacia was frustrated now and she sat up, more dejected than angry when Ben stuffed himself back into his underwear and adjusted them around his waist as if he wasn’t as in need of a release as he was. Meeting someone more interested in conversation than seeking pleasure with her was new, and honestly a bit of a bother. She retreated to the edge of his bed and scowled at the door. “Fine, we’ll just fucking talk our mouths off. My favorite color is brown, since you  _ must _ know,” she snapped.

Ben sat up, assuming a kinder expression when Acacia decided to go along (albeit begrudgingly) with his suggestion. He admired her form, stiff with agitation, and felt his face burn. “I’ve never liked a girl like this before,” he said, casually. When his cousin didn’t respond, he cleared his throat and moved on to the next topic. “I hate training almost as much as I hate my parents.”

“I’m not a therapist, Ben.”

“So?” Ben stared dumbly at Acacia. “That’s a non-sequitur.”

“Is this really what you wanted to tell me? That you have a crush on your own cousin and hate school and your family? This was bothering you so much that you pulled your cock out of my mouth before you could come so that you could tell me this?” Acacia hissed, standing. She didn’t mean to dismiss him or his feelings, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk about emotions with him. Especially when he probably knew exactly how she felt about her own parents. Under different circumstances, perhaps she would have listened willingly to him and confided equally in him, allowed him to open up to her and done the same without any fear or hesitation. Whatever they were doing could go no further than it had already, especially with Ben already so taken.

“Sometimes I think about killing them all,” he blurted out. Ben clasped his hand over his mouth and shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean that,” he murmured. But he had meant it, he just hadn’t meant to say it. It was in the heat of the moment and he’d wanted to give her something substantial, something worth listening to since she already seemed so reluctant.

“Ben…” Acacia stood and paced his room.

“I think about doing it with the Force. Choking them, ripping them apart, crushing them… I can do it all.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them.

“Shut up!” Acacia yelled. She covered her mouth and stared at the door as if expecting it to fly open and an adult to step in and punish her. But nothing came save for the whisper of wind passing through the curtains. She turned to Ben and shook her head. “Ben, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Wanting control of the situation again, she attempted to return the initial mood of the encounter. Sinking to her knees before the bed, she rested her chin on its edge and stared at Ben. He didn’t look like the type to hurt anyone for no reason, she thought, so she had no reason to worry about his words. He couldn’t even hurt her with his power. No, he’d had plenty of opportunities and hadn’t yet. But maybe that could be attributed to his feelings for her, the ones he’d decided to call love.

“I have a chance to fix it all, Acacia. I can fix it for you, too,” Ben whispered, and he sounded so sure of himself that Acacia nearly fell. Their eyes locked and she shifted away from him, from the intensity of his gaze. An overwhelming desire to be as far away from his as possible washed over Acacia and she gripped the edge of the bed tightly, willing herself to relax and take control until he glanced toward the door. “We won’t ever have to stop this,” he said, speaking softly as if it was little more than an afterthought.

“Don’t be stupid, cousin. There’s nothing to fix, nothing to stop,” Acacia replied, pulling herself to her feet. She turned around, taking in the plain room shrouded in darkness. A cold sadness gripped her heart, one she couldn’t place or understand. Blinking quickly, she glared down at Ben and realized that she disliked him more than she liked him, maybe even hated him. Sure, his parents had their issues, but he lived an otherwise forgiving life. She wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t so she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out why he hated every damn thing about his life so much. No, he hadn’t said that. No, he only hated his parents.  _ Them all _ was what he’d said, actually. She needed to clear her mind again. There was a dull aching in her head.

“You’re thinking too much.”

“Get out of my head!” Acacia was furious, but not stupid and fought to keep her voice low as her body shook. “I told you-!” She was cut off by Ben’s lips on hers. Cracked, dry lips, warm, invasive tongue, the scratch of facial hair beginning to grow, her eyes squeezed shut and hands unsure of where to go. In the next moment, his hands were on her shoulders and the straps of her gown snapped easily between his fingers. She might have considered protesting if he’d given her a moment to think, but his hands were quick and soon she found herself bare, with a heaving chest and his hands running along her sides before gripping her thighs and hoisting her up around his waist. She turned her head to catch her breath and he dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed.

Ben froze, staring down at her. He wanted her like he’d had her before, like he already knew what lay before him as well as he knew himself. But she wouldn’t meet his gaze, not that he cared enough to mention it. “I love you, Acacia. Don’t try to tell me I don’t, because I do,” he muttered, words falling over each other. His stomach turned pleasantly when she finally looked at him with soft, forgiving eyes. Leaning into her hand, he welcomed her fingers as they splayed across his cheeks. And then he was falling and tumbling and she sat atop him with this smug grin on her face. Ben watched his cousin toss her hair back, felt her fingers on his shaft, and then… The unbelievable, the closest thing to Heaven Earth had to offer.

Acacia couldn’t call what they did making love. Though she didn’t have anything more than one incident to compare it to, she couldn’t call it good or bad.  _ Uncomfortable _ . Both physically and mentally. And  _ warm _ , like spring fusing into summer on her skin when he kissed her and she shifted her hips to feel him pull against her.  _ Intense _ when Ben grabbed her face, her spine curving to accommodate the position, and forced her to stare into his eyes as he drove upward and into her when she couldn’t summon the strength to move for herself. She wouldn’t forget the feel of the sheets sliding against her skin or the barely bearable feel of him inside of her, only pleasant because of the way he looked at her with such innocent need sinking in the dark hues of his eyes. She’d never shake the horrible sinking feeling in her stomach when it was all done and she felt his essence spill from her and cling to the throbbing place between her thighs. What felt bearable only moments before made bile rise in her throat once she finished and she could only sit with the truth on her stomach like rocks and stare down at her cousin through the blur of tears, wondering if he felt the same. For a while, she’d curled up on the rug and attempted to gather herself and control, but the game had lost its appeal.

For Ben, sex wasn’t anything like what he’d imagined. Warm, unbelievably lonely. He’d tried to ignore the blatant discomfort written across Acacia’s features, distracting himself by focusing only on her eyes, for once unguarded. He felt clumsy and stupid beneath her. Gripping her hips, he’d only felt a burst of contentment when she placed her hands over his for only a moment, her palms burning. Her flushed face had hovered over his and when he forced her to look into his eyes, he’d felt a rising wave of desire to communicate everything he was to her and he’d felt so foolish nestled among her heavy breaths and sharp sighs until her body began to respond to only a glance. When everything was done, so quickly, he wanted to hold her for the night at least. Insecure when she immediately dressed and moved to put some distance between them without looking at him. For a while, she sat on the floor and gazed at the wall, expressionless. She’d been there when he fell asleep, lonely and cold even though the night was hot.

Now, with morning hanging over their heads, Ben and Acacia faced the day on opposite sides of doors filled with yearning and regret. In the comfort of his room, Ben allowed himself a few tears of anguish. With nothing to do, but think, he sat in his bed and remembered her as if she sat in front of him in striking clarity. Was love not the tug in his stomach that accompanied her presence? The ache in his skipping heart that followed the sight of her face or the sound of her voice? He hated her, more than he had. He wanted to hurt her, make her feel stupid and insecure beneath him, but he also wanted to have her again and forever.

Water pelted her skin. The salty taste of tears filled her mouth and she hugged herself. There was no going back, no way of stealing back the memory of the night or the fact that, like many of her other schemes, this one had left her feeling too guilty to face the day with her head held high. She didn’t know how she would greet her aunt and uncle, her parents with the knowledge of Ben heavy on her mind. An underlying fear froze her feet to the floor whenever his words played in her head. He’d spoken so easily of killing his own parents as if it was a task no more troublesome than setting the table, no more irritating than unexpected weather. Ben was insane. Ben loved Acacia. The truth was terrifying. Yet there was a sense of security in knowing that he wouldn’t hurt her, that he’d be willing to do more than necessary to appease her.

 


End file.
